


Vasilisa, Bride of Winter

by applebuckets



Series: Ivan, Son of Wyr [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate World, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, High Fantasy, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Nyotalia, Rule 63, Rule 63 vs Nyotalia, Russia & Ukraine & Belarus Are Not Siblings Here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applebuckets/pseuds/applebuckets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shaman named her "Vasilisa" when she had none. Her friends called her "Vasya" when she was young. The villagers gave her "Spear of the Valley" when she fought.</p>
<p>And now she took "Bride of Winter", because she had to. The valley saved her once, and in turn, she will save them.</p>
<p>(A small prequel fic for a future four arc, multi-chapter'd fic series called "Ivan, Son of Wyr".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vasilisa, Bride of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> (( Hello there. This is an un-beta'd fic so please bear with me.
> 
> This is a particular High Fantasy AU in the making that's been worked on for too long. There was a lot of world building, just alone on the upcoming multi-chapter fic, but I wanted to get this prequel out of the way. Plus I really wanted to write something fluffy about the friendship between fem!Russia, Ukraine, and male!Belarus. Keep in mind they are not related at all in this fic. And while the relationship tags are filled, pairings are not really the focus of the story. So I apologize in advance if that is what you are looking for.
> 
> There is also a difference between this fem!Russia and the Nyotalia version. I basically like utilizing both characters and make them a separate people in their own roles. It sounds crazy, but if you stick around with me, you'll see how it works.
> 
> A note on the original characters: aside from this first chapter, the PoV would go to fem!Russia. They're not the focus of the story, but there are very few that is used for plot purposes. ))

 

 

She was a small thing, with skin white as the winter snow, and soft little tufts of pale hair atop her head. The cloth, bundled tight around her with its muted and dirty appearance, didn't look enough to provide her any warmth against the winds whipping around him.  
  
But her plum-colored eyes were piercing, wide and unmoving as she stared at him. Stared straight at his eyes. Stared through his soul. Demanding that he dare not drop her back to the ground from where she laid on moments ago. Demanding that he ignore the few torn packs surrounding him. Ignore the broken wooden makeshift weapons just nearby. The blood splatter staining the pristine snow up ahead. The winds roared once more, urging him to retrace his steps. To return and join his hunting party. To move on with the hunt.  
  
His eyes focused once more and watched her blinked up to him, still staring. So quiet, with her small, pressed lips and unwavering eyes.  
  
The hunter cautiously placed his spear by his boots, just before loosening his furred cloak with his now freed hand, the other cradling the baby. With it, he swadled her, providing her with much needed warmth, not knowing how long she had stayed on the snow, shivering and waiting for anyone to realize she was still there. He ignored the biting winds and shifted her closer to him. Once she was secured in his arms, he retrieved his spear and headed back to join his comrades.

  
  
\- - - - - -

  
  
Some of the party showed trepidation for taking the abandoned child. One more mouth to feed, they had said. A few mentioned the fear of a curse, or a mischevious spirit, for what are the odds one will come across a lone babe in the woods, unharmed?  
  
Then one voice spoke up. "Let the shaman decide her fate." Murmurings of agreement rippled through his hunting party, and he nodded, clutching the sleeping child closer to his chest.  
  
And with the success of their hunt, an usually plump wild boar, dead and tied and ready to be hauled, the men soon made their way back home.  
  
Home was a small pocket of land, surrounded by tall, jagged mountain ridges. The only accessible paths were a few tunnels by the mountainsides, guarded and blocked by thick tree roots. One of the men upfront touched it and spoke a few words, requesting passage. Then came the sound of wood against rock as the roots shrunk back, allowing entrance for the men. Torches were lit as they ventured inside the tunnel, careful with their kill and of their steps on uneven ground.  
  
He was the last in line. Resting his spear against a boulder, his freed hand reached out to touch the roots that remained visible, patting it reverently. A few, hushed words, and the roots came back to life, stretching out to entwine with one another as it formed once again as a barrier. The tunnel darkened, with only the flames from one of his men's torch serving as a light. Hefting the bundle in his other arm, he took up his spear and followed his men.  
  
It was a somber trek inside the tunnel, only made silent with the presence of the unknown child.  
  
Once they emerged, the group split apart; some of them heading down to take care of their kill, the others to return to their families. Only he and three of his men-- his closest friends --remained behind. He nodded to acknowledge them, and watched as they went ahead to take the narrower path leading to the shaman's hut.  
  
For a moment, he just stood there, gazing out to the small valley his people were fortunate to have found, just enough for a tiny village to thrive on despite the harsh conditions on the other side of the mountains. Glancing down, he noticed the baby was no longer asleep, and resumed her unnerving staring at him.  
  
It was too early to think so, but he smiled softly as his eyes swept once more at the valley. "Welcome home, little one."

  
  
\- - - - - -

  
  
The inside of the shaman's hut had always looked odd, but still warm and inviting. Colorful tapestries hung loosely on the walls. A few worn leather pillows were cluttered together at the middle of the room serving as the sitting area, in its center a hole on the ground used to lit fires. A modest stack of logs stood nearby. On one side of the room were two earthen pots and lone low table, littered on its surface were clay jars of varying sizes, wooden bowls, bundled herbs, sticks of incense, and carved totems. Near the table was a makeshift shelf, filled with more jars and totems. A large tambourine rested against it. On the far corner of the room was a small simple bed with a furred blanket thrown over it, next to a wooden chest that had seen better days. Strings dangled low from the ceiling, the ends hooked to amulets made of wood and colored stones. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and herbal incense.  
  
At the sitting area were the men huddled at, leaning against the pillows as they stared at the village shaman, Dobrushin, cradle the child in his arms.  
  
"...and no one followed you?"  
  
Dobrushin flickered his eyes to Gervasii, the man who found the child. Skilled with his spear, he was well respected among his hunting party, and often times they looked up to him as a leader. Which boggled the shaman as to why he would deviate from the hunt to go deeper into the woods.  
  
"No. It did not look like her parents had survived, and what attacked them was no longer there." Gervasii replied, a hand scratching at his beard as he furrowed his brows.  
  
"She is a quiet little thing, isn't she?" Closest to the shaman was Igor, the fastest bowman among the huntsmen and with the eyes of a hawk. He patted the baby's head softly, admiring how soft her pale curls were.  
  
Gervasii shook his head. "But it is disturbing, how she just keep staring and does nothing else."  
  
There were chuckles from the men on each side of him. On his left was Rodion, a hardworking giant of a man, good with his bow and handy with his blades. On his right was Timour, a fellow spear wielder.  
  
Dobrushin lifted the child up to gaze at her, a slow warm smile creeping on his face. "Still so young, yet I can see a strong spirit in her."  
  
"So she'll stay?"  
  
"Would you keep her?"  
  
Gervasii sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My wife is already expecting. I don't believe she'll be happy to a second child in our home so soon." He was about to ask the others, but closed his mouth. Igor was still young, and the other two live on their own, with no woman to care for the child. But if he were to ask one of the other village men who tended to their crops and yaks...  
  
"I will take her."  
  
The men swiveled their heads to the shaman, watching him bounce the baby on his lap. He stopped what he was doing when he noticed their staring.  
  
"I will take her." Dobrushin repeated, this time more firmly as he let the child latched onto his finger with her tiny hand, surprising him with the strength of her grip. Before they can voice their concerns, he chuckled low and deep. "The others may fear what she may bring to their home, this child who was found alone in the woods." He smiled down at her as she gazed back with the same blank expression. "They may think she is cursed or an evil spirit has latched onto her. But I fear none of these things, so she will be with me and I will raise her as if she was my own."  
  
The men mulled over what he had said, but eventually accepted it. They had agreed back then, to let the shaman decide her fate.  
  
And so she will stay.  
  
"What name would you call her?"  
  
Dobrushin paused for awhile, pondering. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply and exhaling loudly. The men waited, letting the comfortable silence afterwards curl around them while he was lost in his thoughts.  
  
When the shaman opened his eyes, he happened to glance down and find the child do more than just stare.  
  
This time, she was smiling.  
  
"What a beautiful smile you have there... Vasilisa."  
  


**Author's Note:**

> (( Name meanings:
> 
> Vasilisa - "queen". Also used in a Russian fairy tale, and the name of several princesses. Nickname is Vasya (yeah, about one letter away from Vanya.)  
> Dobrushin - "goodness"  
> Gervasii - "spear servant"  
> Igor - "bow warrior"  
> Timour - "iron"  
> Rodion - "sprung from a hero"
> 
> Name meanings are taken from wiki and some baby naming site. Forgive me. ))


End file.
